So Come Back, I Am Waiting
by SordidDetailsFollowing
Summary: Peter is starting his freshman year at Columbia University. Like any other totally normal college student, he has totally normal things to worry about. Like getting to his 8 a.m. chemistry course on time. And finding people to sit with in the dining hall. And meeting his new roommate. ... Who happens to be a powerful alien god and (ex?) super villain. Totally. Normal.
1. It Was Half a Second, I Was Halfway Down

Chapter 1: It Was Half A Second, And I Was Halfway Down

"Shit, fuck!" Peter cursed vehemently as he attempted to drag his giant suitcase up the narrow stairs. He knew Aunt May would scold him for his language if she were here to witness this catastrophe, but she wasn't. And if she were, Peter wasn't entirely convinced that even she could abstain from a few choice words regarding the ridiculous dimensions of this stairwell. It was probably a safety hazard. What did they expect people to do if there was a fire, jump out the window?

Peter grunted and groaned as he hauled the suitcase up the last few steps to the third floor. He had to use some of his super strength, if he was being honest, because those walls were fucking emtight/em and he'd packed almost all of his belongings into this one bag (even though he was just moving across town). When he finally pushed open the stairwell door and stumbled out into the hallway, kicking his bag out in front of him, he was panting lightly with effort. He leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath.

A boy with short blond hair and a Stanford t-shirt was passing by. "There's an elevator over there." He told Peter blandly, pointing down the hall.

"Oh." Peter felt his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. "Right. Thanks." The boy didn't stop to chat, and Peter sighed as he watched him go, stomach sinking slightly. Way to go, Peter. Great job with first impressions. Maybe this year you'll get to see what it's like to be the dumbest person at school instead of the smartest. He watched a girl and someone who looked like her mom pass by as well, both glancing at him curiously before rounding the corner. He offered them a smile, but it was weak. He almost wished Aunt May were here to help him move in, but she'd had to work. Well, she emoffered/em to take the day off and come with him, but Peter had insisted that he'd be fine on his own. He knew she couldn't afford to take time off. So here he was, all by himself, having lugged a super-sized piece of luggage and a backpack half-way across the city. (Getting through the subway turnstiles had been hell, and Peter had had at least one near-death experience with the train doors.)

Peter gritted his teeth and pushed off the wall, preparing to go search for his room. He glanced around at the room numbers to make sure he didn't take off in the wrong direction, because wandering around like he was lost was really emnot/em going to help his rep. He started walking in what he thought was the right direction, dragging his suitcase along behind him and continuing to look around curiously.

So. This was where he'd be living for the next year. It was… Nice. Not the newest building, but it looked well-kept. He supposed it's what he could expect for a freshman dorm at an ivy league school. Unless the building was infested with rats (and Peter really hoped it wasn't), it would still be better than his apartment building in Queens. He felt bad about leaving Aunt May to live there alone, but she'd insisted she wouldn't mind. She'd even joked about turning Peter's room into a home gym as soon as he moved out. He'd argued at first, thinking that it would be cheaper to live at home and commute to school, but when they found out that Columbia was offering Peter a full ride, Aunt May had insisted. The real college experience, she'd said.

And if Peter was being honest, he kind of liked the sound of that.

He just hoped that he'd get someone nice for his roommate. Someone normal.

He read the room numbers until he reached 318. He stopped outside the door and dug in his pants pocket for the key he'd picked up at the registration desk outside. But he hesitated before unlocking the door, suddenly nervous. This was it. He was meeting the person he'd be living with for the next ten months. Would they be friends? Good friends? Would it be one of those situations where they just tolerated each other and hardly spoke? Would they have anything in common? Peter had to make a good impression. He really didn't want to spend the whole year tiptoeing around someone who hated him. Especially since he was planning on sneaking out every night to swing around the city in a brightly colored costume and hoping that this person didn't notice anything weird.

Peter took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his thick brown hair, trying to tame the mess a bit. It was a losing battle, but he felt like he ought to try anyway. He almost reached up to adjust his glasses, but then he remembered that he wasn't wearing them. He hadn't needed them for two years now, and if he was being honest they didn't provide emthat/em good of a disguise for his secret identity… After all, there were these useful things called contacts that people wore now. So Peter had decided to go glasses-less this year. A fresh start at a new school. He hoped that maybe he'd have more success, you know, socially, than he had in high school if he didn't look like a total nerd. Speaking of which… He glanced down at his clothes to make sure there wasn't anything blaringly wrong with his appearance. He was just wearing jeans, a faded Beatles t-shirt, and a torn-up pair of converse. That was normal, right? Peter hoped so.

Okay. Good. He was ready. He started to insert the key into the lock, but paused again. Should he knock? He wasn't even sure his roommate was already here. The room might be empty. But it was better to be safe than sorry, so Peter held his breath and knocked lightly.

"Come in." He heard a quiet voice call from the other side of the door.

Shit, he was here. Peter swallowed against the sudden butterflies in his stomach and smoothed down the front of his shirt. Then, realizing he shouldn't linger in the hall like a weirdo, he hurried to open the door. It was already unlocked.

"Hi!" Peter's voice was a little higher than normal as he fixed a smile on his face and stepped inside, dragging his bag in with him. He blamed it on the nerves. Hopefully his roommate wouldn't notice. His eyes flickered around the room, taking in two twin-size, extra-long beds pushed against opposite walls, a desk by the door, an open closet (already containing a collection of hanging clothes), an empty bureau, and a second desk by the window. The second desk had someone sitting at it.

The first thing he noticed about his roommate was his clothes. He was wearing a thin, dark green v-neck sweater that looked incredibly soft, like cashmere, and plain but very well-fitted black jeans. He looked rich, and Peter suddenly felt just a little self-conscious about his own clearly second-hand clothes. But then his roommate stood up, and all thoughts of clothing flew out of Peter's mind.

He was taller than Peter by at least a couple of inches, and thin in a similar way (not skinny, really, but what people might call 'wiry'). But his extra height made him look like someone who was deceptively strong. People wouldn't mistake this guy for small and weak like they did Peter. He had raven black hair that curled past his ears, longer than most guys wore it but not too long that it was unattractive or strange. His face looked like it was stolen from an angel, all sharp cheekbones and ivory skin, dark lashes framing pale, ice blue eyes.

Most of all, he looked startlingly, incredibly familiar. Just like a young…

"Hey. I'm Lawrence." He stepped forward, smiling politely and extending his hand for Peter to shake. Peter blinked at him, trying to wipe the surprise off his face as he noticed the curious, almost analytical tint to Lawrence's sharp gaze. There was something else there too, something more difficult to identify.

"Uh…" Peter succeeded in looking like a complete idiot before instinct took over and he offered his hand in return. "Peter." He must be wrong. Even though he looked emjust/em like him, there was no way his college roommate was…

As soon as their hands touched, Lawrence's cool palm pressing against his, Peter's last memory of Loki tore vividly to the front of his mind.

It had been just over a year ago. Not long enough that Peter didn't still remember the details, even if he tried to convince himself otherwise. The Avengers had been fighting an invasion of Kree for hours, and it was an absolute mess. The battle was vicious, worse than anything Peter had seen before. After half a day and maximum effort from all of the superheroes within traveling distance of New York, they'd finally managed to push the alien forces into a heavy retreat, leaving the city slowly emptying as the fighting wound down. It hadn't come easily. Dozens of Tony's unmanned suits had been destroyed and almost all of the Avengers were sporting injuries of varying severity.

Spider-Man had been perched on the edge of Stark Tower's roof, watching some of the crippled alien ships disappearing into the sky above the setting sun. The city was awash in an orange-red glow, and it had reminded Peter uncannily of spilt blood. His broken arm hung limply by his side and he gritted his teeth against the pain, waiting for his spidey sense to calm down enough that he could go inside and make sure it was set correctly for healing. A noise on the other side of the roof had caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Thor grab Steve by his throat and slam him down onto the rooftop.

Peter had sprung to his feet and made an aborted movement towards them, a startled noise leaving his throat, choked with confusion. A hand on his shoulder stopped him from interfering, and he turned to see Captain America, a small, sad frown perched below his earnest blue eyes. Shocked, he looked back at Thor. He watched, wide-eyed, as the other Steve melted beneath the Asgardian's unyielding grip. His throat turned pale and thin beneath that massive hand and warm blue eyes froze over, hard and cold as chips of ice.

And he laughed. Loki laughed as Thor slammed his head against the pavement. He laughed, half-crazed, as his brother's powerful fist connected with his face. Over and over. He laughed, coughing, choking weakly as his head rolled to the side, glazed ice eyes meeting Spider-Man's gaze across the roof. His teeth were stained red with blood, his grin a wild, spiteful thing. He laughed, that choked sound cutting off into an undignified squeak as Thor hauled him up by his neck and raised his hammer to the sky. They disappeared in a blinding column of light, sparking colors like a prism. Dark had settled in after that, the silence eerie after hours of nonstop fighting, the rooftop empty except for a light, chilled wind.

Peter would never forget that face. It had haunted his dreams for a while after that, after he found out that Loki had been in collusion with the Kree, instrumental in planning their invasion. No. He would never forget Loki's face.

He gaped at Lawrence as their hands fell apart, watching the polite smile on his deceptively beautiful face drop away into an expression of disappointed disdain.

"Well, fuck." He drawled. Peter blinked at him, stunned. Lawrence just sighed, running thin fingers through his hair as he returned to his desk. He stood beside it and began to fiddle with some papers that were sitting beside an open laptop. "Hello, Spider-Man."

Peter gasped, literally gasped, and for a moment it felt like his heart was falling into his stomach. How had he even…? Hearing those words was like something out of a nightmare. It felt surreal. Like this had to be a very, very bad (and very bizarre) dream. "W-What? I'm not… What?" He stuttered, taking a step backwards towards the open door.

Lawrence sighed again, tired, as if some huge burden was being thrust onto his shoulders. With a careless flick of his wrist, the door slammed shut behind Peter.

He yelped, startled, and could suddenly hear his pulse pounding in his ears. He watched, eyes wide with apprehension, as Lawrence's clothes melted away, inky shadows like silk and smoke and sin morphing seamlessly into dark leather accented with subtle bronze and deep green. His Asgardian garb was unmistakable.

Peter swallowed hard, icy fear clutching at his heart. "Loki." He breathed. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but now the man's identity was undeniable.

Shit. This was bad. This was really fucking bad. He knew. emLoki/em knew. Tony was the only other person in the world who knew who Spider-Man was. emAunt May/em didn't even know about his nighttime activities. But now Loki did. He knew who Peter was. And now he could tell anyone. Everyone. But Peter knew Loki's reputation. He wouldn't just throw the information around carelessly… No, he would use it like a bullet, releasing it at precisely the right time and place to cause Peter as much damage as possible. And Loki wasn't just any super villain; he was a emgod/em. Not to mention possibly the most powerful magician in the universe and a literal genius. There was no way Peter could hope to overpower him or convince him to do anything.

He was fucked.

Peter's hands had curled into fists, his fingers searching uselessly for the web shooters that were currently packed at the bottom of his suitcase. He didn't emneed/em them to produce webs in an emergency, but he still felt vulnerable without his specifically designed weapon of choice. His breath was coming heavy now, and he felt a bit light headed with panic as his mind scrambled desperately for a solution, for emsomething/em he could do to fix this.

"Stop panicking." Loki sounded exasperated, but also resigned. Like he was disappointed about something. And Peter could hear his subtle Asgardian accent now. "I'm not going to tell anyone about your silly little secret identity." He didn't look at Peter as he sat in front of his desk, focusing his attention on the laptop and starting to type something into an open document.

Peter stared at him, perplexed, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Loki just sat there, typing away, completely ignoring him. Slowly, Peter's heart rate returned to a normal human pace and his thoughts cleared slightly. He said he wouldn't tell anyone who Spider-Man was. But wasn't that why…? Hadn't he come after Peter for some reason? Why else would he be here, posing as a freshman college student? He was probably lying. He was known for that, after all. But somehow… Things just weren't adding up. Peter knew he shouldn't trust the trickster god just because he seemed genuine, but something made him almost want to believe Loki.

Was it possible that this was all just an insane coincidence?

Peter decided to go along with it for now. After all, there wasn't much he could do about it. He'd keep his guard up, and try to figure out what Loki was up to. Moving slowly, and watching the Asgardian out of the corner of his eye, Peter crossed to the unclaimed bed and sat down on the edge. He eyed Loki suspiciously, examining his profile as he continued typing whatever it was that he was working on. Was he planning something? Nothing good ever seemed to happen when Loki showed up.

Maybe he should contact Thor. He would definitely want to know what his brother was up to. Spider-Man wasn't officially an Avenger (although he liked to think that it was just a formality thing and that for all intents and purposes he was part of the team), but he could get ahold of any of them pretty easily. He had Tony's number, and he could pop by the Tower any time. There were usually at least a few supers hanging around the building and surely some of them would know how to get in touch with Thor, even if he was off-world.

It seemed like the smart thing to do. The only question was whether Peter should turn Loki in as soon as possible, or wait until he got some clue as to what the Asgardian was up to? Was it more dangerous to let him hang around, or to betray him when Loki now had the power to oust Peter to whoever he liked? Thor knew his brother best. Maybe Peter could just talk to him, scope out the situation a bit…

Loki shifted slightly in his chair, glancing briefly at Peter before focusing back on his computer. "You don't need to run and tell my brother dearest." He stated simply, a slight edge of emsomething/em to his voice.

Peter stiffened, his mouth falling open in shock. "Can you read my mind?" Oh shit. Shit shit shit that was so not emfair/em.

Loki's lips twitched slightly, but his expression remained blank otherwise. "No." His tone was cold, condescending, and casual all at once. "Just your expression."

"Oh." Peter sat up straighter and tried to arrange his face into a weak imitation of Loki's effortless neutrality. He wasn't practiced at controlling his facial expressions since he was usually in a mask whenever he needed to be careful about that sort of thing. He gave up after a moment, deciding that it didn't matter much since Loki already knew what he was thinking about. "Why…? Um. Why?" Peter was really eloquent today, wasn't he?

Loki turned his swivel chair to face him, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were disinterested, his expression bored, but there was a slight tightness to the set of his jaw. "I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm not plotting any more attempts at world domination." His gaze bore into Peter, indecipherable but heavy all the same. "I'm just going to school."

Peter stared, a small crease appearing between is eyebrows as he tried to assess the truthfulness of that statement. "Why?"

Loki turned back to his desk. "I'm bored."

"Oh." emOh/em. Hm. He thought back to the look on Loki's face when he realized who Peter was; an expression of something like disappointment. And before that, when he'd first walked in, 'Lawrence' had offered him a polite smile and greeted him in an almost friendly way. And there had been something in his eyes. Something other than the cold detachment he wore now. Something that might have been… Hope?

Things were starting to fall into place in Peter's mind, slowly painting a picture bit by bit. But why was Loki emhere/em? It made a certain type of sense that he wanted to pose as a student and go to school for something interesting to do. Peter got that. School was cool! Learning was great. But why was he here, in a freshman dorm? Surely he could magic his way into any position he wanted. He could live anywhere. If he wanted to live on campus, he could probably get himself assigned to a single room with a snap of his fingers. So why share a small room with some strange freshman? Why put up with the loss of privacy, the lack of air conditioning, and the communal bathroom? What could he possibly get out of that arrangement? Unless…

And suddenly, Peter thought he understood.

Loki was lonely.

He looked at the raven-haired man's profile again, studying him in silence for a few moments. When he looked closely, he could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the stiffness in his shoulders as his fingers flew across the keyboard. His eyes were lidded and blank, but his lips pressed together with just a hint of discomfort.

He'd wanted a normal roommate, too.

Peter allowed himself a moment for the strangeness and wonder of that realization to wash over him. Loki, god of lies and attempted conqueror of Earth, wanted to go to school like a normal human college student.

"Okay." Peter finally said. He reached for his suitcase, pulling it towards him so he could tip it onto its side and unzip it to start pulling out his things.

He watched Loki go still out of the corner of his eye, the muted tapping of computer keys falling silent for a moment. Peter wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking for it, but he smiled slightly to himself when he saw a bit of the tension bleed out of the Asgardian's shoulders. He seemed to relax slightly with that simple statement, with Peter's quiet acceptance of the situation. He went back to work on his laptop without saying anything, but Peter understood.

He wasn't naïve enough to think this meant he could trust Loki implicitly. But it was something. A truce of some sort, an understanding. And Peter was willing to give it a try and see how things turned out. He was willing to give the trickster god a second chance. He knew not many of the Avengers would agree with him (if any at all), but they didn't have to know, right? And if things turned out badly, he could always go to Thor when he needed him. Besides, Spider-Man was all about giving people chances. The benefit of the doubt. A little faith. Loki shouldn't be an exception to that just because he was probably more dangerous than all of the villains Peter had ever faced before combined.

Peter really hoped this wasn't going to come back to bite him in the ass.

As he stacked clothes on the end of his bed, sorting them to be put away in the dresser, he saw Loki's alien clothing dissolving into those smoky shadows. They were almost instantly replaced by the simple green sweater and black pants that he'd been wearing before. Peter looked at him across the room and smiled slightly.

Loki looked nice in human clothes.

And maybe this would be a good thing, after all. Peter had been concerned about keeping up with his Spider-Man duties while sneaking around behind his roommate's back. It would be a bitch to hide the bruises that disappeared within a day, conceal his odd hours, figure out how to slip out at night without being noticed. He couldn't exactly leave out the window if his roommate stayed up late.

But now he didn't have to worry about that. Because his roommate knew.

Because his roommate was Loki. A god. An alien god. An (ex?) super villain alien god who was also an incredibly powerful magician and master trickster.

He watched with wide eyes as Loki held one hand out carelessly to the side and a white computer charger flew out of the closet. It hurtled through the air, narrowly missing Peter's head, and landed neatly in Loki's pale, outstretched hand.

What the actual fuck was Peter Parker's life?


	2. We Need An Amethyst Bridge

Peter lay on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was hot. He had nothing on but a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, his sheet had been kicked into a pile at the foot of his bed, the lights were off and the window was propped open, but it was still hot.

That's not what was keeping Peter awake.

Across the room, sitting up in bed with a laptop open on his lap, was Loki, Prince of Asgard. (Were they called princes? Peter was ashamed to admit that he didn't actually know very much about the alien realm. Maybe now he'd actually have to start listening to Thor when he talked.) He'd been typing away on that sleek MacBook since Peter had arrived over six hours ago. He'd typed while Peter unpacked. Typed some more while Peter sat on his bed eating granola bars and watching youtube videos on his phone (because the dining halls didn't actually open until tomorrow). And he was still typing when Peter returned from brushing his teeth in the communal bathroom and settled down in bed with this semester's microbiology textbook.

They hadn't spoken. And even now Loki was almost completely silent. Peter could hear his own steady breaths brushing soft and hot through the stagnant air as he lay there, but he wouldn't have even known Loki was in the room if it weren't for the steady clicking of his keyboard and the soft blue light filtering out of his screen, making his pale face glow gently in the dark. If he listened hard enough, he could hear Loki's heart beating firmly in his chest, but he tried not to do that sort of thing as a general rule because, you know, that's weird.

It wasn't like he was afraid of Loki, per se. He didn't expect the trickster god to do anything to him while he slept (although, let's be honest, it wouldn't be entirely out of the realm of possibility). It wasn't even that Loki made him emnervous/em, although he might have just a little bit. It had more to do with the fact that Peter had had his own room to himself since he was six, and sleepovers hadn't exactly been a common occurrence in his childhood. Now there was another living, breathing (he hoped so) person sleeping in the same room, and it was distracting.

Peter had turned out the lights at half past eleven, hoping to get a good night of sleep and an early start with orientation activities beginning at eight-thirty the next morning. It was now an hour later, and he was no closer to falling asleep. In fact, he felt wide awake, his mind easily occupied with thoughts of tomorrow, and school, and meeting new people, and taking new classes, and dealing with Loki, and when he should patrol next, and whether he should let Aunt May come visit before classes started. When he tried to silence his thoughts and calm his body enough to sleep, he just became acutely aware of the person sitting less than ten feet away from him, also not sleeping.

Eventually, tired of his own inability to shut off his brain, Peter turned over on his side to face Loki's bed. The movement was louder than he expected, shuffling his sheets and creaking the bed, and Peter lay frozen for a few moments afterwards, too wary of more movement to find a truly comfortable position. But Loki's typing never faltered and his pale eyes never wavered from the screen in front of him, and after a minute or so Peter relaxed. He watched the god working for a while, his facial expression never wavering from perfect, beautiful neutrality. He figured Loki was just as aware that he was awake as he was that Loki was awake, so he didn't stop himself from speaking when the urge finally became too much for him.

"Loki?"

The raven-haired man immediately glanced up, eyes finding Peter's instantly through the darkness. "Is the light keeping you up?" He asked simply, as if he would easily turn it down or close his computer out of consideration for Peter's sleeping needs.

Peter blinked at him, toying absently at the edge of his t-shirt with one hand. "No." It really wasn't. And he wouldn't want to force Loki to stop whatever he was doing even if it was bothering him. "It's just… Are you gonna sleep?" It was getting a bit late.

Loki held his gaze for a long moment. "Yes." He turned back to his laptop, fingers resuming their never-ending work. "Just as soon as I finish this."

It wasn't really the answer Peter was looking for, but he figured it might be the best he was going to get. He really wanted to ask Loki what it was that he was working on. His curiosity was burning, in fact, and he could think of dozens of things the god might be doing that would keep him typing for hours on end. But he was worried that Loki might not answer if he asked; or worse, he would lie. And besides, wasn't privacy, like, an important thing between roommates? Peter didn't want them to start off on the wrong foot, so he kept his mouth shut and let his curiosity stew unanswered.

After a while, he rolled back onto his back. Then his other side. It was a new experience, not being able to fall asleep. Usually Peter was so exhausted that he'd be unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow. He got bored of trying to keep his mind blank around one in the morning, and allowed himself to wonder whether Loki was writing some really intense fanfiction erotica or plotting a very long and complicated plan for world domination.

He spent some time musing on why he was having so much trouble with this sleeping thing. It was definitely distracting to have someone else in the room, but he'd already kind of gotten used to that over the last few hours, so it must be something more. As stupid as it was to admit, it probably had a lot to do with being in a new place, at a new school, with new people. He was just… nervous. How annoying.

As the minutes ticked by, marked by the changing numbers glowing green from Peter's alarm clock, he grew increasingly frustrated. He tossed and turned, closed his eyes and opened them, tried laying spread out and curled into a tight ball. Nothing worked. By three-thirty, he had that vaguely sick, exhausted feeling settling into his muscles. He was restless and tired and worried about being sleep deprived tomorrow, and he had reached that certain point where he just couldn't put up with it anymore.

With a resigned sigh, Peter finally gave into his instincts. He sat up without saying a word and, not giving himself time to regret the decision, used his fingers and the balls of his bare feet to climb smoothly and silently up the wall. He settled into the corner of the ceiling just above his bed, trying his hardest not to glance down at Loki. The incessant typing had stopped as soon as he'd first placed his fingers on the wall, and he could feel the weight of his roommate's gaze like the gentlest of touches sweeping up his spine.

He did his best to ignore it, and set about spinning himself a web nest. His web shooters were still with his suit, crammed at the bottom of a drawer in the bureau, but he'd always preferred using his organic webs for this sort of thing anyway. It used up a lot of his natural store, but it was instinctual. Nesting in artificial webs just didn't feel as right. His cheeks burned as he worked, weaving webs from three points (one on each wall and one on the ceiling) to create a vaguely hammock-like structure. He felt self-conscious doing this in front of someone else, especially since he hadn't felt the urge to nest like this since his uncle died two years ago, but he didn't let that stop him. If they were really going to give this whole roommate thing a try, he might as well make an effort not to hide himself from Loki.

When he finally finished, about ten minutes of work overall, he was able to climb inside the small pouch nestled in the corner. It was snug, just big enough for him, but being surrounded by soft webbing on all sides was immediately comforting. His wrists ached gently from the effort, though not in a painful way. He settled himself down, finding a comfortable position before peeking over the edge to find Loki staring at him, just as he'd suspected.

He felt himself flushing again, and hoped that it was too dark to see the color dusted across his face. There was a noticeable glint in Loki's eyes, making them almost seem to glow, and Peter found himself swallowing reflexively as he blinked back. "What?" He asked a bit defensively, as if challenging Loki to say something about the fact that Peter had just built a fucking emweb nest/em in their shared bedroom and was now sleeping in it like a real-life spider.

After a long moment, Loki's lips twitched slightly. "Interesting." Was all he said, voice low, before turning back to his laptop. Huh. Peter watched him for a few more seconds before sinking down into his webs and curling up on his side. It was still too hot up here, but he couldn't help but feel more comfortable, more at ease. He quickly started to get drowsy, eyelids dropping and breath evening out, deepening.

He found his senses expanding, picking up small shifts in the air and subtle sounds, and before he knew it he was tuned in to Loki's heartbeat. Strong. Steady. So evenly paced he might have thought Loki a machine if he couldn't hear the unmistakable rush of blood through his veins. He focused on that heartbeat until everything else faded into the background, and it didn't take very long at all to be lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Peter's alarm went off in the morning, he woke up quite suddenly, immediately aware that there was another person in the room and scrambling to shut off the obnoxious beeping sound. It was easy enough to just shoot a web over the edge of his hammock thing, sticking the snooze button down so he'd have a few minutes to turn it off completely. He peered cautiously over at Loki's bed, only to find his roommate sleeping on his back, apparently undisturbed by the alarm. He lay under a single sheet pulled up to his shoulders, so still and pale that once again Peter could have mistaken him for dead if he couldn't actually hear his heartbeat from across the room.

He relaxed a little, curling back up in his nest and allowing himself a few deep breaths to wake up fully and start to push his heightened senses into the background where he kept them for most of the day. As he thought about his orientation schedule, nervous excitement succeeded in waking him up completely and he crawled out onto the wall to start detaching his webs. He rolled the silky material up into a ball and dropped silently down onto his bed to shove it unceremoniously beneath his pillow. The webbing would dissolve in a couple of days anyway, but he wanted to make sure everything looked normal in case Aunt May (or anyone else he might meet today) came by his room. Or, he realized with a start, if Loki decided to have anyone over. Did the trickster god even know anyone else? Did he have friends? It still felt a little strange to think of him living as a normal college student, but Peter supposed that if he really was here because he was bored and lonely, then maybe 'Lawrence' would actually try talking to people.

Not that Loki had tried to talk to Peter emat all/em yesterday… But that was different. Peter shouldn't feel bitter about that (even if he did just a little tiny bit). He sent Aunt May a quick text, letting her know that his first night away from home had been fine and telling her what was on his agenda for the day. He knew she wouldn't answer until later, because she'd worked late last night and liked to sleep in as long as possible when she could. He gathered up his clothes for the day, a plain blue t-shirt and jeans, a towel and his toiletries, and made his way out to the bathroom to shower. It was weird not to have the bathroom to himself, but he survived and knew that he'd get used to it before long.

When he returned to their room, slipping in silently, he found Loki still asleep, not having moved a muscle since he left. Peter briefly considered waking him to see if he wanted to go to the orientation events together. It emwould/em be kind of nice to know at least once person… But he quickly discarded the idea. The god of lies might not take kindly to being woken up, especially since he'd been up even later than Peter last night. And besides, he needed to put himself out there and meet people on his own. It would be emreally/em depressing if he ended up with an alien ex-supervillain as his only friend at college.

So Peter left on his own, backpack slung over one shoulder and lower lip clutched nervously between his teeth. The first event was a breakfast reception and speech from the Dean of Students. Then the resident advisors were going to take their residents on a tour of campus before they had free time and lunch in the dining halls. The only other thing scheduled today was a dinner reception where he would meet the faculty advisor he'd been assigned to and maybe some of his other professors, as well. Columbia seemed to really like receptions, and Peter found himself hoping that he was dressed appropriately for that sort of thing.

He didn't really talk to anyone at breakfast, but the food was good and the Dean's speech was pretty informative. He felt a little more relaxed when people started splitting up into groups based on where they lived on campus. He wasn't the most extraverted person, and was always more comfortable when social situations were regulated like this. He didn't see Loki in his group, although he was sure his roommate was supposed to be there with them. He tried not to worry about it, instead focusing on the tour.

There wasn't much of a chance to talk with the other residents, though he tried to get a reading on them as much as he could. Their RA, Johnny Storm, was surprisingly easy going and likable (at least in Peter's opinion). He cracked a lot of jokes and smiled easily, making references to amusing campus stories and rumors that made Peter feel much more at home in this unfamiliar place. His relaxed personality was a welcome contrast to the other freshmen's anxious first-day jitters, and Peter stuck by his side without really thinking much about it.

When the tour ended, he found himself talking animatedly to Johnny about the classes he wanted to take as soon as he got the basics out of the way. Johnny was a third-year engineering major himself, so he had some advice about which Professors to seek out or avoid. They ended up going to the campus bookstore, then getting lunch together. It was easy to talk to Johnny, even if he seemed a bit full of himself and became increasingly flirty the more time they spent together. Peter didn't think much of it; it just seemed to be the guy's personality.

He returned to his dorm feeling encouraged by at least making one friend, even if it was his RA and he hadn't actually talked to anyone in his class. He had almost three hours before the dinner reception, so he came back to his room to kill time until then.

When he unlocked the door and slipped inside, he found Loki still in bed. He was fully dressed, lying on top of the sheets now with his hands folded neatly on his stomach. His eyes flickered open when Peter entered the room, and he turned his head to glance up at him.

Peter smiled a little, trying to be friendly even as the god's attention made his stomach flutter lightly with nerves. "Hey." He greeted him, closing and locking the door before stepping over to sit on the edge of his bed and take his backpack off.

"Hello." Loki replied, sitting up slowly and running one hand through his midnight hair, pushing it back with thin fingers. It hung artfully around his face, every hair placed perfectly in a way that made Peter ache with jealousy. His hair emnever/em did what he wanted… "Have you had a nice day so far?"

Peter blinked at him, taken aback slightly by the kind and considerate question. "Um, yeah actually. I have." He unzipped his backpack and reached in to pull out the pamphlets he'd been given at the breakfast reception. "You?"

Loki shrugged gracefully, moving to sit on the edge of the bed mirroring Peter. "I've just been here."

"Right." Peter bit down on his bottom lip for just a moment, considering whether he should tread carefully around Loki, or just treat him like a normal person. If they were going to make this roommate thing work, he should probably try to act like they really were normal roommates. "Why didn't you come to the orientation stuff?" He asked, throwing caution to the wind. "I'm pretty sure it was required." One hundred percent sure, in fact.

Loki looked down at his pants, where he was picking lightly at a nonexistent thread on his dark jeans. "Didn't need to." He said simply, his accent light and lilting, then glanced up to meet Peter's gaze. "What do you want to study, Peter?"

Peter felt his brow furrowing in confusion, and he made a conscious effort to maintain a neutral expression. Why was Loki so interested in him all of a sudden? "Um, well… Biochemical engineering."

Loki nodded in easy acceptance, as if he were neither surprised nor underwhelmed by the answer. "And have you always lived in New York?"

"Yep." Peter set his backpack on the ground, mentally preparing himself for what seemed to be a one-sided game of twenty questions. "Queens, born and raised." He knew he couldn't ask Loki the same question, though he was curious to learn more about Asgard.

"How did you become Spider-Man?"

Peter's lips parted in surprise, his gaze instantly drawn back to Loki's face. That was a… personal question, to say the least. "I was bitten by a genetically mutated spider." He hedged, avoiding the answer he knew Loki was looking for. "How did you become Loki, god of mischief?"

Loki's lips twitched, just the hint of a smile, and Peter knew his challenge had been acknowledged. He tipped his head slightly to one side, raven hair brushing across his jaw, and gazed at Peter with those sharp blue eyes. "Adopted." Was all he offered.

"Oh." Peter hadn't known that. Did that mean Thor wasn't his real brother? The god of thunder certainly behaved as though Loki was his flesh and blood. He offered his roommate a small, companionable smile. "Me too." He admitted. He wanted to ask more about Loki's situation, but it was pretty clear that he didn't want to talk about it further, so Peter left it alone for now. Wanting to avoid any more questions about Spider-Man, at least until he was more comfortable with Loki, he picked up the pamphlets lying beside him on the bed. "Here. These might be helpful." He tossed the small stack of paper towards Loki's lap.

Instead of reaching up to catch them, Loki tipped his head back with a short, disappointed sigh. The pamphlets flew straight through his stomach, disappearing behind him with a soft sound as they landed on the bed. Peter gaped, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Um…"

Loki offered him a wry, sardonic smile. "Oh, that's right. I'm not actually here."

"You're not actually here." Peter repeated, trying to understand what exactly was happening.

Loki pursed his lips and proceeded to examine the fingernails on his left hand, as if completely unconcerned by this turn of events. "Yes. I'm astral projecting."

"Astral projecting?" Peter asked, interest piqued.

Loki's gaze flickered up to him for just a moment, eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, not precisely. It's more of an illusion than that."

Peter had questions. So many questions. But one seemed more important than the rest. "Why?"

Loki went back to avoiding his gaze, expression completely neutral and voice light with studied disinterest. "I decided to take precautions in case you called my brother to come retrieve me."

Peter frowned, an unexpected surge of mingled guilt and pity making his throat feel tight for a moment. "Oh, Loki…" He resisted the urge to get up and sit beside his roommate, knowing that the gesture would be fairly pointless since he wasn't actually emhere/em. "I wouldn't do that."

Loki gave him a brief look, full of scathing disbelief, and Peter sighed. "I'd be offended that you think I would, if it wasn't clear that you really must not know me very well at all." And by 'me,' he meant Spider-Man of course, whose reputation for kindness and merciful second-chances was well known by now.

"Tell me, then." Loki still looked disbelieving, but his hard expression had softened somewhat. "Why wouldn't you turn me in as soon as you had the chance?"

"Well, lots of reasons." Peter raised one hand to rub at the back of his neck. "I might want to find out if you're planning something malicious before I make any moves. I might just be curious." He gave Loki a pointed look, intentionally catching his gaze. "But really it's because I believe in second chances." His lowered his voice a little, letting his words come out softer. "I believe that anyone can change, if they want to."

He knew Loki had done a lot of bad things. Really bad things. He'd seen some of those things, and it still bothered him. But if the trickster god was serious about turning over a new leaf and starting a new life, then Peter wanted him to have that chance. "I won't turn you in." He vowed. "I'll stand by you as long as you're not hurting anyone." He smiled slightly, trying to impress his earnestness upon Loki. "I won't betray you, and I'll have to trust you not to betray me."

The Loki illusion seemed to be frozen, his face a mask of confusion and maybe just a little cautious hope. "I see." He said slowly, making it clear by his tone that he wasn't going to trust Peter with his deepest darkest secrets, but maybe he'd trust the young hero not to turn around and sell him out on a moment's notice.

Peter smiled more genuinely, happy to accept that as enough for now. "This was kind of stupid, you know." He gestured vaguely towards Loki.

He looked mildly offended. "What was?"

Peter chuckled. "You doing the whole cloak and dagger thing. If I were going to get Thor to come pick you up, or anyone else for that matter, I wouldn't do it emhere/em."

Loki frowned, looking more than a little frustrated that he wasn't following Peter's logic. "Why not? As much as I'm loath to admit it, my brother could probably drag me out of here without making too much of a scene."

Peter looked at him blankly. "But he doesn't know who I am. None of them do."

Understanding flashed across Loki's face, quickly followed by surprise. Peter found it quite nice to be able to read the god's expressions now that he wasn't hiding behind practiced neutrality. "You would protect your identity." He stated. "Even from the Avengers."

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I mean, Tony knows who I am, but he's the only one."

"Hm." Loki hummed in thought, icy eyes going unfocused as he glanced away. After a moment, he dissolved out of sight with a quick rush of inky smoke (or whatever that shit was – probably magic swirls or something like that), and Peter blinked in surprise at the spot where he'd just been sitting.

He didn't have long to baffle at his roommate's sudden disappearance, because the door was opening in the next instant. Loki stepped inside, looking surprisingly sheepish for someone who was staring haughtily at the floor as he closed the door behind him.

Peter grinned. "Hey, there. Nice to finally see you." He stood up, reaching out to catch the edge of Loki's sleeve between his fingers. He smirked at Loki's exasperated look. "Just checking." He let his arm fall back to his side and threw himself down on his bed, letting Loki off the hook.

He pulled out his phone to see if Aunt May had texted him, shooting off a quick message to update her about his day (because she'd hound him for details if he didn't provide them at an adequate rate) while Loki walked over to his desk and sat down. Peter expected that they'd go back to the comfortable silence that had dominated their coexistence yesterday, but Loki spoke again within a minute of sitting down, pulling Peter's attention away from his phone.

"You really value your identity, don't you?" He wasn't looking at Peter. He was staring out the window, lips pressed into a thoughtful line.

"Yeah." Peter admitted softly. "I have people I need to keep safe. I try to keep this life as separate from Spider-Man as I possibly can."

Loki nodded once, and Peter couldn't help but feel like that was a promise of some kind. He hoped it was. He knew how much he was risking by letting Loki run free with the knowledge of his most precious secret, but he was glad to take any excuse he could get to reassure himself that this was the right choice.

Loki pulled his laptop towards him after that and lifted it open once more, so Peter went back to playing candy crush on his phone. After a few minutes, Loki broke the silence again.

"Thank you." He said, so quietly that Peter would have had trouble hearing him if he'd been anyone else.

"For what?" He asked, pausing his game to look at the god's beautiful profile.

"For trusting me."

Oh. Peter smiled slowly, his chest feeling just a little bit warmer. "Of course."

Loki just went back to typing without another word. Peter was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that maybe his roommate didn't really like to talk about his feelings. Still, he couldn't stop himself from pushing his luck just a little. "Want to come with me to the dinner reception tonight? We're supposed to meet our academic advisors."

Loki heaved a heavy, long-suffering sigh. "I emsuppose/em… If I must." The words dripped bitterly from his tongue.

Peter just smiled.


	3. Unless It's Fiction

Classes started tomorrow, and although Peter would never admit it, he was nervous as hell. The rest of the orientation activities had gone well, but he had yet to meet anyone who would be in a class with him (Loki's schedule did not overlap with his at all, much to Peter's mingling disappointment and relief), so he would be on his own. He had packed and repacked his bag three times already, but he couldn't stop himself from rifling through the front pocket just to make sure he remembered his calculator and extra lead for his mechanical pencils. Just imagining having to ask for lead or pull out his phone to do arithmetic on the first day of class was mortifying.

"Stop fidgeting already and go to bed." Loki drawled from where he was sprawled artfully across his sheets, typing steadily away at his never-ending document of mystery. "Your palpable anxiety is leaving a bitter taste in the air."

Peter set his backpack on the floor once again and shot Loki an incredulous look. "You can emtaste/em the air?"

The raven-haired god rolled his eyes. "It's an expression." There was a short pause. "But in such an enclosed space, yes, I can feel the tension."

Peter blinked at him. "Oh. Well, sorry, I guess." Loki offered nothing in response, so Peter sighed to himself and lay down on his bed, trying to make himself feel calmer as he pulled out his phone to check the time. "It's only eight-thirty!" He exclaimed incredulously.

"Unfortunately." Was the dry reply from across the room.

Peter glared, sitting up once again. "Why would you tell me to go to bed if it's only eight-thirty?"

"Because I'm trying to work, and you're distracting me." There was no venom in Loki's tone, just cold fact, and his eyes never wavered from the screen sitting in his lap. "Go spin one of your nests in the corner. It will undoubtedly improve your mood."

That had Peter scoffing in disbelief at the trickster's utter emgall/em, a light warmth staining his cheeks in reaction to having his web nest referred to in casual conversation. He had not, by the way, made any more since that first night. He'd been sleeping better, and Loki had never once mentioned the incident since it happened. Loki, on the other hand, stayed up later than Peter every night, typing away on his stupid little (shiny, beautiful) laptop.

"What are you even working on, anyway?" Peter asked petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. He had intended to keep his questions to himself and allow Loki his privacy, but he was bitter at the god's remarks and absolutely burning up to know what he was doing.

"Copying down a collection of Asgardian books." He replied simply.

Peter's brow furrowed in confusion at the same time as his interest sparked, the familiar excitement of new discovery rushing pleasantly through his veins as he leaned forward. "From where?"

"Memory."

He inhaled a sharp breath, eyes widening incrementally in shock. "emYour/em memory?" He still wasn't entirely convinced that Loki couldn't just read minds. His roommate spared a moment to send him a scathing look. Right. Wow. "Wow." That was… incredible. "Like whole books word for word?"

Loki just nodded slightly, and Peter felt awe settle into the pit of his stomach. God, what he wouldn't give to have a memory like that… He resisted the sudden inappropriate urge to sit beside Loki on his bed and read over his shoulder. "Are they in English?"

"Yes."

"Were they in English originally?"

"No."

He was translating them then. Amazing. "What are they about?"

Loki made a short, exasperated sound and ceased his typing, raising his ice blue gaze to focus entirely on Peter. "Apothecary guidebooks, general magic practices, mage and magi guidelines of the six hundredth century, tales of the elderflower quests, dark magic in consortium, tactics of the modern mind, three tomes of Asgardian history detailing eras before the magi revolutions, five volumes on experimental enchantment theory, an engineering text, and one novel. Any more questions?"

There was a brief moment of silence. "What's the novel about?"

A withering sigh passed through Loki's thin, artful lips. His head tipped almost imperceptively to one side and he peered at Peter from under dark eyelashes. "A mage and his charge, who is captured and lost to him across time and space. It's a controversial romantic tragedy."

Peter felt his lips part in surprise, a small stirring of interest in the catch of his breath. "That sounds… sad."

"Quite."

The way Loki was looking at him now, sharply, appraisingly, made Peter duck his head and break eye contact, running one hand absently over his bed spread. "Why do you need to copy these books down, if they're all in your memory already?"

He felt the moment Loki's eyes left him, and when he glanced up again, the Asgardian had refocused on the pale blue screen reflected in his pupils, fingers moving once more over the keys. "It takes too much concentration to read in my mind. It is much easier to have the texts before me, so that I might use them whilst doing other things."

That made sense. Peter opened his mouth to ask what Loki would be using them emfor/em, but he thought better of it at the last second and pressed his lips together to hold the words in. He had annoyed his roommate enough for one night, and it was rude to continue prying. Instead, he pulled a worn paperback copy of Lord of the Rings from under his pillow and cracked it open to his dog-eared page, a part of him wishing that he could read the novel on Loki's computer instead.

He had only read for half a minute, having trouble concentrating on the familiar words, when Loki spoke again. "What is it you want to ask me, Peter?"

Peter looked up quickly, a small thrill running through him at the sound of his name, and searched for a hint of annoyance on the god's pretty face. "It's um… Nothing, don't worry about it."

But he seemed to have caught Loki's interest, because his roommate once again paused his typing to glance across the room, his focus like a physical weight. "I don't begrudge your questions. I simply value my own industriousness."

Loki had not been cruel or even particularly rude since this entire ordeal had started (barring the occasional bout of scathing sarcasm), but Peter was still surprised by his generosity. It hadn't seemed like Loki wanted to be friends with him, since he had certainly kept his distance over the last few days, but perhaps he would treat their roommate relationship with as much respect and kindness as Peter tried to. That would be nice, wouldn't it? Ideal.

"Oh, okay. Well, I was wondering what exactly –"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

They stared at each other for a moment, and when Loki made no move to get up from his bed, Peter sprung up instead and stepped forward to open their door, curious as to who it could be. He pulled the heavy wooden door open to reveal Johnny Storm, his head bowed to look at the clipboard he was holding and his golden blond hair falling over his forehead.

A friendly smile spread over Peter's face and he greeted his RA warmly. "Hey, Johnny! What's up?"

Johnny raised his head. When his gaze met Peter's, his mouth curved upwards into a brilliant grin. "Oh hi, Peter! Fancy meeting you here." He winked playfully, his thick brown eyelashes almost seeming to brush over his cheekbone, and Peter found himself realizing that Johnny was quite attractive.

He let out a light chuckle, leaving the door open to lean casually against the doorframe and cross his arms over his chest. "Yeah, what a coincidence. Do you come here often?"

"Oh, yeah." Johnny played along easily, his cocky smile slipping into an even cockier smirk. "Y'know, I actually live right around the corner? So I was in the neighborhood."

"No way! I had no idea." Peter couldn't keep himself from grinning like an idiot. "So what do you need, neighbor? Did you come over to borrow a cup of sugar?"

Johnny laughed, showing off his perfect white teeth as he raised one hand to push his hair off his forehead. "No, unfortunately I did not. Though that reminds me, I need to go buy ingredients for this chocolate lava cake I'm gonna make later this week." Peter was eager to ask emwhy/em Johnny was going to make a chocolate lava cake, but his RA cleared his throat, smile fading away as he seemed to sober up, so he set the question aside. "No, uh, I actually didn't come to talk to you, unfortunately. Is your roommate home?"

"Oh." Peter nodded reflexively and pushed himself off the door frame to step back. "Yeah, sure." He glanced towards Loki's bed, only to see the god already rising gracefully to his feet. He looked taller than usual, somehow, and still ridiculously elegant in that perfectly understated way just wearing a pair of soft black sweatpants and a forest green t-shirt.

Peter thought it must have something to do with the fit of Loki's clothes, which was unbelievably perfect. Peter's clothes never fit him that well, even when he bought the right sizes (which wasn't always, admittedly, because shopping sales was kind of a take-what-you-can-get situation). Or maybe Loki used magic to make himself look so effortlessly good, which Peter thought was just as likely.

Loki crossed to the door and came to stand beside Peter, his expression friendly and open, mouth situated into a polite smile which Peter found startlingly unsettling. It felt as though the smile was blatantly fake, even though it looked perfectly authentic in every way. "Hi. Johnny, is it?" And his accent. His accent was gone and Peter stepped back out of the way to give them a bit of privacy, slightly weirded out by the shift in his roommate's demeanor. Loki held out one pale hand in offering. "I'm Lawrence."

"Yeah." Johnny extended his hand to shake Loki's, his own returning smile looking much more forced than it had with Peter. "Nice to meet you. I'm your RA, Johnny Storm."

"Oh, of course! Great to meet you." Loki managed to look enthusiastic but not overly so as he shook Johnny's hand and proceeded to lean against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest in a direct mirroring of Peter's previous position.

Peter sat on his bed and tried not to appear like he was listening in (although it was totally impossible not to, even if he hadn't had superhuman hearing). He'd seen Loki act like this before, when they had both attended that dinner reception several days ago. It had struck him as odd then, too, but he supposed he would just have to get used to it. It was… Strange, to think that Loki would be this other person, this emtrickster/em to everyone else, but not to him. Then what was he when he was with Peter? Was that his true self? Did Peter have the sole privilege of getting to know the real Loki, god of lies? It was an awe-inspiring thought.

"For sure." Johnny chuckled slightly. "That's why I'm here, actually. My notes say that you got here on Wednesday." He held up his clipboard in explanation. "So I should have met you already. Is there a reason you couldn't make it to the orientation events?"

"Oh." Loki's smile turned bashful, embarrassed in an incredibly charming way. "I'm sorry. Were those required?"

Johnny nodded apologetically. "Yeah, they were. Did you have a conflict or did you just decide not to come?"

Loki glanced at the ground, catching his bottom lip gently between his teeth before letting his eyes flicker back up to Johnny's. And suddenly Peter's face felt hot, because what the hell was that? "I, um, just got really busy moving out here and unpacking and stuff. I'm sorry."

Johnny let out a short huff of air, smiling kindly. "Sure, I understand. We'll just have to set up a meeting to go over the things you missed."

Loki blinked slowly at him, the stupidly pretty look of confused innocence still painted across his face. "Could you maybe email me the info? I mean." He grinned bashfully, tossing his head lightly to one side to brush his hair away from his face. "Do we really have to meet in person?"

Johnny nodded again. "Afraid so. But don't worry, it won't take long. You can sign up for a slot during my office hours; the google calendar link should have been sent to you a couple days ago."

"I see." Loki's voice had suddenly dropped flat again, his expression blank, and Peter watched with wide eyes as he stood up straight, uncrossing his arms and reaching out with one hand to rest the tips of his fingers against Johnny's bare forearm. He leaned in. "Actually, Johnny, you've decided that emailing me will be adequate." Johnny blinked, his face going lax as he gazed somewhat dazedly into Loki's eyes. "You'll do so later this week, and fill out all of the necessary paperwork stating that I have completed orientation. Alright?"

Johnny nodded, slower than before. "Alright."

"Good." Loki let his hand drop back to his side, and there was instantly a kind, gratuitous smile gracing his mouth. "Thanks, Johnny."

Johnny blinked once, a small flicker of confusion passing through his eyes, before he smiled back. "No problem, Lawrence. It's not a big deal."

"Glad to hear it."

Peter found himself on his feet, shock and indignation driving him forward. Had Loki really just…?

"Peter!" Johnny had turned his attention to him again, his grin something more genuine and suggestive when he caught his eye. "Good luck with classes tomorrow. Gershwin shouldn't be too bad, okay? Just make sure you get there on time."

Peter faltered to a stop beside the door, his thoughts derailed. "Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks."

Johnny waved his clipboard in a casual indication of a brush-off. "Aces. Shoot me a text if you wanna grab lunch, yeah? I should be free."

"Sure. Yeah." Peter found himself nodding before he really knew what he was doing, flattered and caught a bit off guard by the offer.

"Cool. Okay then, I'll let you two get back to it. Have a good night!" Johnny raised one hand in farewell, and turned to walk away.

"Goodnight!" Loki replied cheerfully.

Peter was left to follow up with a mumbled "Night," as Johnny disappeared down the hall and Loki stepped back to swing their door shut again.

There was a long moment of silence. Peter stared at Loki, and opened his mouth to ask him what the hell had just happened.

His roommate beat him to the punch. "The RA gave you his number?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, managing to sound gently incredulous as he flung himself back down onto his bed.

Peter's brow furrowed in confusion. "Uh, yeah? It's in our housing information packets anyway."

"Hm." Loki hummed lightly and plucked his laptop from the bedspread to settle it on top of his crossed legs. Even though his tone was subtle, Peter could tell he was expressing disapproval.

He frowned, unable to see how this was anything but absolutely normal. "What? Literally everyone in our hall has his number. You'd have it too, if you'd picked up any of the materials you were supposed to have."

Loki just shrugged casually, his eyes fixed on his screen. "It's probably against the RA rulebook to want one of your advisees in your bed, that's all."

Peter gaped, completely at a loss for words for several long moments. "What?" He finally choked out.

"Oh yes." Loki hardly spared him half a glance. "It was exceedingly clear that he finds you attractive and would feel positively about engaging in sexual relations with you."

Peter choked on the air in his throat. "Wha- That's- um, no…" Sexual relations? "He doesn't…" What the fuck? "How did you- Did you read his mind or something?"

"I've told you I can't do that." Loki responded calmly. "I could just tell. It was quite obvious, really."

He shook his head emphatically, taking a couple of stumbling steps back until his knees hit the bed and he sat down heavily on his thin cotton sheets. "No. That's not…" That was ridiculous. Johnny? Being emattracted/em to Peter? No. Utterly ridiculous. He let out a sharp, short laugh. "I don't believe you."

Loki shrugged again, like he couldn't care less whether Peter believed him or not, and Peter frowned. "You're wrong. That's just… That's stupid." There were so many reasons why that would be impossible, not the least of which was the fact that it emwould/em be inappropriate and Johnny seemed like a good guy, not someone who would chase after the freshmen he was responsible for. And besides, Peter was just some skinny dork from Queens, even if he wasn't wearing glasses anymore. There was no way that someone as gorgeous and sociable and funny as Johnny Storm would find emhim/em attractive.

"If you say so." Loki remarked, tone almost as teasing as it was disinterested.

Peter huffed out an annoyed sigh and flopped down onto his pillow, bottom lip pushed out in what was definitely emnot/em a pout. "Whatever." He muttered, reaching over to turn out the lamp on the edge of his desk. He squirmed around for a minute to get comfortable, deciding that he might as well try to sleep now and get up with plenty of time to get ready and eat breakfast before his eight AM class. He was too frustrated to deal with Loki anymore tonight, anyway.

It wasn't until he'd been lying on his back in the dark, staring at the ceiling for at least fifteen minutes, that he even remembered Loki's awful little mind trick or whatever it was that he did to Johnny. He considered turning the light back on and giving the irresponsible god a piece of his mind, but he cringed at the thought of getting into a morality argument now, when he was already settled down to sleep. It could probably wait until tomorrow.

So he forced himself to close his eyes and think of anything embut/em the complete impossibility of his hot RA finding him attractive. Much to Peter's frustration, he ended up wondering with wild curiosity how exactly Loki had pulled off that bit of mind control. It must have been magic. But how did it emwork/em? Even magic must follow certain rules and principles, the elemental laws of the universe. Or were the laws completely different when it came to magic? Maybe he could ask Loki sometime.

For now, he turned over with a soft sigh and consciously relaxed his muscles, allowing himself to fall asleep to the steady sound of Loki's heartbeat in the warm, stagnant night air.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter returned to their room in a daze the following afternoon. He'd been up since before six in the morning, and his first day of classes had passed in a whirlwind. He had gotten to his chemistry class with minutes to spare (thank god) and sat down in the first empty seat he saw. Just a minute or so later, a beautiful girl asked if she could sit beside Peter at his lab table. She had pale blond hair that reached her chin and the nicest eyes Peter thought he'd ever seen, a captivating dark greyish blue.

Her name was Gwen Stacey, and she was emamazing/em.

It was announced half-way through the class that the pairs sharing lab tables would be partners for the rest of the semester. Peter was wary at first, because he'd never enjoyed partner work before (he always ended up doing all the work somehow), but the last twenty minutes had been left for the partners to discuss their first project, and Peter quickly realized that this was going to be completely different.

Gwen might know even more about chemistry than Peter did. And while that was a bit intimidating, it was also completely fantastic. Peter had never had an equal conversationalist when it came to science and other nerd things like that, let alone someone who could challenge him. If everyone at Columbia was like this, then Peter might be in for four years of heaven. Or he might fall apart under the pressure of no longer being the smartest student in the room. He would just have to wait and see.

Not only was Gwen super smart, but it was surprisingly easy to talk to her. They made a plan for their project in less than fifteen minutes and spent the last bit of class just chatting. Gwen wanted to major in organic chem and go on to do research at some amazing lab in Oscorp or Stark Industries. She liked Thai food, her dad was a police officer, and she was currently binge watching The Walking Dead on Netflix. They had such a great time talking that they ended up going to the campus café after class and eating lunch there together.

Peter had momentarily felt bad for neglecting to text Johnny, but he figured it was better to make friends with someone in his year anyway. And Gwen was just the coolest. They'd exchanged numbers and made plans to meet later in the week to work on their project, and Peter was feeling very optimistic, very positive about his freshman year.

Now, if only his second class had gone as well as his first. He signed up for the English Literature course to fulfill one of his distribution requirements, hoping to get it out of the way. And he'd thought (perhaps foolishly) that it might be one of the easier writing-intensive courses since it was, you know, English. It didn't make all that much sense when he thought back on it now, but it had seemed logical at the time.

He felt lost almost as soon as the class began. He'd always gotten A's in his English courses in high school because he did the work and was smart enough to know what metaphors were and stuff, but this was on a whole different level. Just going over the guidelines for the semester's papers and discussion expectations had made Peter's head spin, and he wasn't feeling particularly great about the fact that they were starting with Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis. It wasn't a long novel, so the professor said that she expected them to read it before the next class, but Peter had heard that it was notoriously difficult to understand.

Loki wasn't home when Peter let himself into the room. He dumped his backpack on the floor and collapsed onto his bed, sighing appreciatively as the cool sheets pressed pleasantly to his skin. He sent a text to Aunt May, detailing his first classes and mentioning Gwen, because he knew she was concerned about him making friends. Then he pulled Metamorphosis out of his bag and cracked it open to the first page.

Two hours later, he was bent over his desk with his fingers tangled in his unruly hair, brow furrowed and bottom lip chewed to bits between his teeth as he read. He was almost halfway through, but it wasn't making any sense to him. The margins of his book were filled with notes and he'd underlined what he thought to be particularly important images and ideas, but it was… A weird story, to say the least. And he knew there was some big important message behind it, but he couldn't figure out what that was.

He heard a key turning in the lock and tore his gaze from the printed words, leaning back in his chair and rubbing roughly at his eyes. He twisted around to glance at Loki as he walked in, giving his spine a nice stretch after sitting hunched over for so long. Which reminded him, he needed to get out and patrol one night this week, to test out his new location and get back into the swing of things. He was starting to get stiff after several days without web-slinging, and anxious about leaving his city unprotected.

"Hey." He greeted Loki, resting his chin on the back of his chair. "How were classes?"

Loki hummed softly as he closed the door behind him and dropped his bag beside his own desk. "Rudimentary."

Peter nodded sympathetically. After all, it must be hard being a genius god who has lived for who-knows how long and knows practically everything. "Well, it's just the first day. Maybe it'll get better."

"Perhaps." He slid long, thin fingers through his dark hair and sat down on the edge of his bed.

Peter watched him thoughtfully. "You're not just here for the classes, are you?" He asked.

Loki met his gaze, eyes sharp and attentive as always. "It's something to do." He deflected, and Peter smiled wryly.

"Right." He turned to go back to his reading, but stopped himself when he remembered that he needed to talk to Loki about what he did to Johnny yesterday. "Oh, Loki?"

"Hm."

Peter sat up straighter in his chair. "We need to talk about last night."

Something small and indiscernible flickered through Loki's gaze. "Of course." He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back on his elbows, the picture of ease. "Did Johnny Storm make any more untoward advances on you at lunch today?"

Peter scoffed. "What? No, of course not! God." He shook his head. "I didn't even see him at lunch. And your theory is completely unfounded. I mean –" Peter cut himself off, glaring sharply at Loki. "Stop trying to distract me."

A small, smug smile twitched at the edge of Loki's lips. "Is that what I was doing?"

"Yes." Peter took a short, exasperated breath and got right to the point before the trickster god could lead him astray again. "Whatever you did to Johnny, that scary mind control shit, was wrong. You can't just do that to people."

Loki's mask of blank neutrality was back. "I did not harm him, nor anyone else."

"Taking away someone's free will is definitely harmful." Peter argued.

"That's debatable."

"It's not." He fixed Loki with a hard stare, slipping into his more responsible Spider-Man persona. "If you're just here to go to school and not be evil anymore, you can't keep using your powers for selfish reasons. At least not in any way that will affect others."

Loki held his gaze for a few moments, contemplative. "Alright." He agreed.

Peter nodded, satisfied. "Alright." Loki might be lying (he was known for that, after all), but Peter decided to trust him for now. At least trust that he wouldn't want to make Spider-Man think that he was up to no good.

And although he was extremely curious about how Loki's mind control magic emworked/em, he refrained from asking at the moment, not wanting to push the subject any further. He turned back to his desk and laid eyes once more on his abandoned page, shoulders slumping in resignation. From the corner of his eye, he watched Loki take his laptop out of his bag and settle down against his pillow.

Peter read the same paragraph at least four times, because he was convinced that it contained some key information. It emsounded/em so important, but he couldn't manage to connect it with his understanding of the rest of the novel. He gave up for a moment, letting his head fall forward onto his desk as a low groan of frustration crawled up his throat. "Why does literature have to be so hard?" He muttered to himself.

"Kafka's not speaking to you?" Loki asked from his bed, voice light.

Peter sat up quickly, twisting around to look at him. "Have you read this? Metamorphosis?"

Loki raised his eyes from his computer screen. "More than once."

Peter blinked. "What, have you read every book in existence?"

"Of course not." He was typing again. "I have simply endured several long periods of imprisonment, with little else to do but read."

"Oh." Peter glanced back at his desk, made slightly uncomfortable by that reminder of Loki's dark past. "So… You like this one?"

"Yes." He stated simply. "How are you finding it?"

Peter sighed heavily. "Honestly? It makes no sense to me."

Loki paused, and set aside his laptop, sitting up once again. "How far have you read?"

Peter glanced back at his book. "They've just hired a cleaning woman, and she doesn't seem to care at all that Gregor is giant bug. It's really weird."

Loki chuckled, soft and warm, and Peter was struck with surprise, having never heard the sound before. It was quite nice. "Yes, indeed. The entire novel is surrealistic to the extreme."

"I can see that." He agreed blandly. "I just can't figure out what it emmeans/em."

Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and crossing his fingers beneath his chin. "It could mean a great many things. Some argue that Gregor's experience is a reflection of how isolated and out of place Kafka felt in his own life."

"That makes sense!" Peter exclaimed, relieved to have some explanation to apply to the book. "But I don't know anything about Kafka."

Loki shrugged slightly. "You could also view it through a Freudian lens. Gregor is threatened by his father and has a complex relationship with his mother, and the whole story takes on a very dream-like quality." Peter nodded slightly, brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to think that through. He didn't know much about Freud. "Or you could go with a Marxist read and focus on the dehumanizing and alienating effects of the capitalist society working Gregor literally to his death."

Peter frowned. "Okay, but… Do I have to have read like ten other things just to understand this book? I don't know much about any of that other stuff." Why couldn't literature just stand on its own?

"There is this thing called the internet." Loki remarked with his usual dry sarcasm. "You could look it up."

Peter slumped petulantly in his chair. "But that feels like cheating."

"Is it cheating to use the resources available to you to gain a platform of knowledge necessary for understanding complex subjects?"

Peter stared at Loki's hands, considering that. He supposed it made sense, but… He didn't just want to read Spark Notes or something. Loki seemed to know an awful lot about this subject, though, so maybe he could help. "You're available to me." He stated.

"I am?"

Peter looked up to see a glint in Loki's gaze, the subtle curve of a smirk on his mouth, and felt his cheeks flush with warmth. "No, I… I just mean, you know, if you didn't mind, you could... Help me, with the book. If you wanted. But you don't have to. It's not, um… I can just figure it out, if you don't. I'll survive."

"I'm sure." Loki was smiling more fully now, and Peter couldn't deny that he was even prettier when he smiled. "Still. I would be quite willing to help you, Peter Parker."

Peter swallowed. "Cool. Um, yeah, thanks."

"My pleasure."


	4. Climb Inside With You

Things were going well. Surprisingly well.

The first week of classes flew by like cars on the highway, leaving Peter a little wind-swept but breathless with exhilaration.

His other two courses (calculous and biology) had already started off with a heavy workload, but Peter felt like he was managing it all pretty well. Better than managing; he was emenjoying/em it. He'd already found a spot on the third floor of the science library with the most comfortable arm chair he'd ever had the pleasure of doing homework in. He'd read ahead in the textbooks for chem and bio because he just found it all so interesting. And he'd met with Gwen again on Tuesday emand/em Wednesday after class to work on their assignment.

Peter was starting to think that maybe he was a little bit in love. Gwen was perfect. Smarter than most MacArthur Grant recipients and gorgeous and emfunny/em, too. They laughed. A lot. And had a lot in common, much to Peter's pleasant surprise. And the most shocking part of all? She seemed to like Peter, too.

Who wouldn't fall in love with a girl like that?

He'd seen his RA in passing a couple more times, and Johnny had been as friendly as ever, but they never got around to having lunch together. Peter figured Johnny was busy with his first week of classes, too, and he didn't want to bother the older student. And besides, he hadn't been able to get Loki's deceptively poisonous words out of his head. All those things he said about Johnny… And Peter… And… Sexual attraction. It was stupid, and clearly just a distraction tactic, which made Peter all the more annoyed that he couldn't stop dwelling on it.

But Loki.

Loki had continued to be unexpectedly gracious. He occasionally granted Peter a few minutes of his time, making small talk when they were both in their dorm room and answering a few more questions about the English homework Peter continued to struggle with (much to his chagrin). The sarcastic comments and drawling pessimistic wit were never in short supply, but Peter was beginning to find that he didn't mind the god's attitude. It was almost… Amusingly endearing. In a strictly objective way, of course.

So overall, things were going well.

And everything would be absolutely perfect if Peter wasn't currently going emout of his mind/em with nervous anxious energy.

It was Friday evening and Peter was perched on his bed, leg bouncing in agitation as he cast furtive, longing glances towards the bottom drawer of his dresser. Loki was at his desk, casually flipping through an electrical engineering textbook and very clearly ignoring Peter's palpable unease.

Everything was going well. Everything was perfect. Chemistry lab that afternoon had been a joy with Gwen at his side and Aunt May's visit afterwards had serendipitously coincided with Loki's four-o'clock drawing class (which Peter was ever so thankful for, as he wasn't sure he was ready to introduce his only living family to an immortal god of lies who once tried to take over the world – even if that god was his college roommate).

But now the sun had set and there were no morning classes to get up for on Saturday and it had been ten days, eighteen hours and approximately thirty minutes since Peter had last patrolled the city.

Spider-Man had taken a break. Gone on hiatus. Hung up the cape (so to speak) while Peter Parker settled into the college life. It had been the right choice to make, Peter knew, and Iron-Man himself had assured the young hero that he would keep a closer eye on NYC while he was gone, but it didn't stop him from worrying. Each day that passed with his suit buried at the bottom of his dresser made Peter wonder how many robberies, how many assaults, how many drug deals had gone down that he could have stopped.

It was a familiar guilt, wondering if he should be doing more. Even if he patrolled every night, he emcould/em do more. Push himself further. He had that power, to help more people, save more people, and a large part of him believed it was his responsibility to use that power to the fullest.

And it had been ten days. This was the longest he'd been absent from his city's streets since he was bitten by that spider over three years ago. He emneeded/em to patrol tonight. Forget the city; emPeter/em was going to fall apart from the inside out if he couldn't feel the wind through his suit as he twisted and flipped through open air. The wonderful lurching dip in his stomach at the bottom of a swing, when his web caught just so. The vibrations of a thousand taxi cabs and subway cars and footsteps and shouts tearing through the air and pricking the hairs on the back of his arms and neck. He needed it.

He'd wanted to wait until a night when Loki wasn't home, but he was too far gone for that now. With a short, tortured whine, Peter slid gracelessly from his bed to the floor and reached for his dresser drawer.

"Gods, Peter." Loki's cool crystal voice cut through his near-hysteria and Peter froze, hand hovering inches from the drawer's handle. His eyes flashed to the god's face, but he remained focused on his book. "If you really need to satisfy your human body's feeble needs that badly, you could just ask me to leave for a while."

Peter gaped at him, his cheeks instantly flooding with prickling warmth. "What? No! God, what… emNo/em Loki, I'm not… Not…"

Loki raised his head to glance sideways at him, one thin, dark brow arching perfectly above his glinting eyes. "Intending to pleasure yourself?"

He flushed an even darker shade of red, if that was possible. "emNo/em. Of course not."

"Oh." Loki turned back to his work, just a small twist of a smirk giving away the fact that he'd been teasing Peter all along. "My mistake, then."

Peter rolled his eyes and huffed out an irritated sigh, trying to brush off how much Loki had succeeded in embarrassing him.

He hadn't… done that, since moving to Columbia, in case anyone was wondering. He'd been too busy and Loki was always around and, well, public bathrooms weren't exactly the best place to… Never mind. It didn't matter. Suffice to say he wasn't engaging in such activities at the moment which may have contributed slightly to the itching aching restlessness crawling under his skin but, whatever, just, he wasn't. And he had much bigger things to worry about, besides.

Like performing his duty as New York's hero in residence. He didn't need the Daily Bugle publishing any speculating articles about Spider-Man being dead, or worse, abandoning the city. They'd gone a whole three weeks without running any stories about him, and he didn't want to give them any excuses to drag his name through the dirt again.

But all of this, all of it was beside the point. Peter wrenched open his bottom drawer and dug around in the pile of jeans and hoodies until he felt the slick, cool material of his suit brush against his fingers.

When he pulled it out, he certainly didn't miss the subtle flicker of Loki's gaze in his direction, those sharp blue eyes quickly taking in every detail they could. Ignoring the god's attention as best he could, Peter turned to grab his backpack from the bed and stuff his suit and mask into the open pocket. Not willing to waste any more time, Peter sprang fluidly to his feet and crossed the room to their window, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went.

It was a warm September night, the dimly glowing lights from the campus pathways like a soft sheet laid over the world, tucking them in. With no effort at all, Peter could hear through the cinderblock walls to the life outside. He could hear the voices, soft with laughter and excitement. He could hear their footsteps and the deep bass echoing of music from parties big and small. It was the first Friday night of the semester. At half past nine, most of Columbia's students were meeting up with their friends, gathering under the trees to take advantage of the last days of summer, going to parties to dance and laugh and get drunk on the joy of each other and whatever substances the kids were using these days.

Peter Parker was sticking his fingertips to the glass of his dorm room window so he could slide it open and climb out onto the wall of his building, three stories above the ground, and sneak out to swing around New York on thin strings of reinforced synthetic fiber.

Loki cleared his throat softly, halting Peter before he could climb over the wooden windowsill.

"What, precisely, do you think you're doing?"

Peter sighed. He'd hoped to avoid having to actually emtalk/em about this, but the whole roommate thing was turning out to be more about communication than he'd originally anticipated.

"I'm going to patrol." He stated the obvious, turning half-way to give Loki a blank look. "There's this guy who runs around saving people sometimes. He wears red and blue like a patriotic idiot and can do some weird stuff. You know, walk on walls, lift heavy objects, dodge bullets. Ring any bells?"

Peter's best unimpressed stare had emnothing/em on Loki's flat, seriously not amused gaze. The Asgardian leaned back in his desk chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands atop his thigh, the perfect picture of effortless poise.

"And why, pray tell, are you leaving through the window?"

He resisted the childish urge to roll his eyes again. "If people see me leaving and coming back every time I go out as a certain arachnid themed superhero, someone could eventually use the knowledge to sync up my schedule with his. And if I get roughed up on patrol, I can't exactly walk back in the front of the building all bruised and bloody without garnering some serious attention. emAnd/em-" He leaned forward slightly, cutting Loki off when he saw the god parting his lips to interject some comment or another. "I can't leave out the front door and come back through the window so it looks like I disappeared and never came home. Hence the coming and going in secret." He gave a short, final nod. "You can be my alibi."

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he resented the assumption that he would help in any way. Or maybe he just resented being interrupted from saying his piece. "And how," His lip curled up into just the hint of a sneer. "Is any of that worse than someone spotting you clinging to the wall of your dorm twenty-five feet above the ground dressed in civilian clothes and clearly looking like Peter Parker?"

"No one will see me."

"You can't guarantee that." He insisted.

"Yes, I can."

A tiny crease appeared between Loki's eyes, and there was an almost imperceptible tightening around the edges of his mouth. It was the mildly aggravated look he got whenever he felt that he was missing something, that someway somehow an important bit of knowledge was slipping the grasp of his clever mind.

"How?"

Peter still felt a vague, undefined sense unease about sharing specific details of his powers with Loki. It wasn't really a fear anymore, because he'd decided to trust the god and that was that. But it was like some habitually protective part of his brain objected to sharing the vulnerable secrets of his high-profile identity. Most of the avengers didn't even know much about how his powers actually worked.

But he gave in with a small sigh, tipping his chin up to stare at the ceiling for a moment. "If I pay attention, I can feel it when someone is looking at me."

It was a little more complex than that. Really, he could feel it embefore/em someone looked at him, which is exactly how he could avoid it in the first place, but he didn't want to get into semantics right now. He wanted to be outside, swinging through the air again.

Loki's eyes brightened with a tell-tale glint of interest. "Oh? Is that part of your sixth sense?"

It was too easy. "I can't see dead people, Loki. There's no plot twist at the end where we find out you've been a ghost all along." The god's blank look of complete unrecognition made Peter groan at the loss of a good quip. "Seriously? Sixth Sense? Have you watched a movie in the last decade?"

"Your spider sense, then." Loki corrected himself easily, clearly not letting his question slide.

"Spidey sense." Peter corrected thoughtlessly. "Yeah."

"How can you tell when someone looks at you? Can you feel the movement of photons in the air? Is that how you tell if they are absorbed by a pupillary structure?"

Peter stifled the impulse to smile at the god's obvious curiosity. It was almost… Flattering, in a way. And Peter hadn't had anyone else to talk to about this, except Tony who didn't have nearly as much time to give the kid his undivided attention like… He shook his head slightly. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's more – " He cut himself off, quite aware of Loki's uncanny ability to distract him. "We can talk about it later, okay? Right now I need to go."

He turned back towards the window, only to be stopped by Loki's voice once again.

"If no one will see you, why don't you put your suit on before you go? Surely finding somewhere to change outside is risky."

Peter bit down on his lower lip, stifling a frown. Loki was right, after all. It would be much easier to change before going out, like he did at home when he could wait for Aunt May to go to sleep and lock his bedroom door before slipping out the window. He didn't even know where he would change out there; wasn't it illegal to get naked on rooftops? Public indecency or something like that? But he didn't have much choice.

"I can't exactly change into my Spider-Man suit in the shared bathroom out there."

Loki looked at him curiously, one eyebrow arching again, just slightly. "And you can't change in your own room because…?"

Peter blinked at him. Change here? Oh. Well, sure. Peter had been taking his clothes to change in the restroom in the morning and at night because… Well, because Loki was always here.

Not… That it mattered…

He watched a slow, teasing smirk spread across Loki's perfect mouth, and he definitely did emnot/em feel a little warmer and slightly vindictive at the sight.

"I see." The god inclined his head slightly, raven hair brushing across his jaw as he moved. "You're concerned about preserving your virtue."

He scoffed condescendingly, irritated to feel a slight blush climb up his neck. "That's stupid." He retorted, striding back to his side of the room to sling his backpack onto his bed and rifle inside for his suit. "I don't give a fuck about my… Virtue."

Loki's antagonistic smile only sharpened. "Don't worry, young one. I promise not to look." He swiveled his desk chair to face the opposite direction, tauntingly sliding one hand up to cover his own eyes.

"Whatever." Peter frowned, grumbling under his breath as he peeled his shirt off and flung it aside, eager to get this over with. He didn't care so much about changing in front of people, really. It's just that…

He kind of didn't wear underwear with his Spidey suit.

Panty lines were a bitch, okay? And people took pictures of Spider-Man. The last thing he needed was some mortifying tabloid photo of his ass painted across the newspaper stands with a headline that read "strongBREAKING NEWS: SPIDERS WEAR TIGHTY WIGHTIES/strong."

(Not that he wore tighty wighties. But boxers wouldn't even emfit/em inside his suit, so options were limited.)

Peter sighed as he stripped out of his jeans, glancing surreptitiously towards Loki to make sure he was still looking away. He was, although Peter didn't doubt that he could have found a way to peak if he really wanted to. He was a pretty impressive magician, after all. (Or mage, as Peter had heard Loki reference once or twice.)

He slipped his boxers off as quickly as possible, careful not to trip over them as he did so, and threw them in his hamper before pulling the comfortable fabric of his suit up over his legs. It felt strange to be completely naked in the same room as someone else, very exposed (in the most literal sense of the word). Peter's heart was beating embarrassingly quickly by the time he yanked the zipper up over his back, sealing the suit over himself.

"Okay." He muttered, grabbing the mask and moving back towards the window again.

He paused before covering his face, watching as Loki's intent gaze slid slowly down and then back up his body.

Peter swallowed, paying no mind to the soft nervous twist in his stomach. "What?"

"Mm." Loki tipped his head slightly to one side, still looking at Peter like he was examining him. "Nothing." They made eye contact as the god glanced up, and the slight glint in his eyes was unrecognizable this time. "I just never noticed… It suits you."

Peter felt his lips fall softly apart, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected compliment. This time, he was hardly aware of the dusting of pink across his cheeks as he glanced away, raising one hand to ruffle his hair self-consciously.

"Oh, uh… Yeah. Thanks." He offered Loki a small, helpless smile before tugging the mask on, flattening his hair and sliding a soft white film over the world.

He didn't wait for any more commentary from his roommate, eagerly ducking out of the open window and clinging to the wall outside. He slid the pane of glass back into place with his toe, extending his awareness outwards into the warm, dark air to make sure no one was watching as he crawled smoothly and quickly towards the roof, relishing in the stretch of muscles he hadn't used enough recently.

When he swung off into the night, towards the more densely populated areas of down town, the air tasted a little sweeter than he remembered. The storefront signs and streetlights cast a twinkling glow, reflecting into the sky to create a great dome of satin luminescence, like a luxurious blanket encompassing the city.

His city.


End file.
